


Something Borrowed

by bimmykimmy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimmykimmy/pseuds/bimmykimmy
Summary: Keith is away on a mission for the BOM and he and Hunk both deal with separation in very similar ways.





	Something Borrowed

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wrote this because I drew art that's just this exact situation. You can check it out on my twitter @bimmykimmy  
> Thank you to Leah for giving me the ideas for Hunk and Keith's particular smells lol
> 
> Enjoy!

The fabric is soft and it slips through Keith’s fingers like water as he fiddles with it. He hadn’t meant to take it without permission; it’d just been _there_ for the taking. It was a thoughtless action. Keith is going to be gone for quite some time and although he and Hunk’s last night together had been nice, Keith knew he’s going to get lonely. Space travel, as fast as it advances, just isn’t quite fast enough to make his excursions with the Blade of Marmora quick.

Keith stares down at the orange ribbon; it isn’t the same one Hunk’s had for so many years. That one got singed in battle ages ago. This one is new and the color is a bit tamer, maybe more pastel if Keith had to assign a descriptor.  His “humanitarian” efforts have brought him nearly to the edge of the galaxy, making communication not impossible but agonizingly slow. Not to mention only short audio signals can actually be transmitted. Needless to say, Keith and the other BOM crew have been isolated from earth on this particular mission.

It isn’t all bad, if Keith is honest with himself. He has his work to keep him busy and he has Cosmo to keep him company. Yet despite Cosmo sleeping peacefully near the entrance of his tent, Keith feels particularly lonely tonight. The weather of this planet isn't the most agreeable, which makes their efforts quite difficult. So, the day had been tiring and normally he’d curl up next to his love, unwind, recharge, mess around a bit, and then promptly pass the hell out. 

He sighs again and stares down at Hunk’s headband as he idly slips it around his wrist a few times over before weaving it through his fingers. He pulls it taught, imagining Hunk’s hand over his, fingers so large they can curl down to Keith’s top joints. He closes his eyes and sinks lower onto his futon as he brings the ribbon up to his lips, kissing it softly.

“Woah,” his eyes open again and he glances down at his hand curiously. “That’s…” The scent isn’t overpowering, but it’s distinct and familiar. Warm and gentle, like teakwood and honey, and all entirely _Hunk._ Keith brings it closer, pressing it softly against his nose and breathes in the scent. His mind fills in the rest; images of his love tying the orange fabric around his head, untucking his bangs and fidgeting with them until they lay just right.

 _Well how do I look?_ he would say.

“Perfect,” Keith whispers into the silence. Cosmo lifts his head at the sound but quickly resumes his sleep after standing and circling about three or four times.

 _Seriously,_ Hunk would say with a nervous twitch of his lips. He’d stand with arms out. _It’s not too Hell’s Kitchen? I’m not too old for this whole look, right?_

Keith laughs to himself, pursing his lips just enough to touch the fabric as he slides lower, resting his head on his pillow. His unwrapped hand lifts for a moment before resting tentatively on his lower stomach.

 _What are you laughing at?_ Hunk would narrow his eyes suspiciously, stepping closer to Keith with a grin. _You like it that much? What if I took it off? Would you like that?_

Keith tilts his head up, eyes trained at the top of his tent as he takes in another intoxicating breath. This time he lets it out softly, a small moan traveling on it, and his eyes flutter shut. His hand on his stomach moves lower, massaging a steady pressure the whole way until he stops over the zipper of his pants. His fingers trace the stitching and raised hems before finally pushing his palm against himself, giving it just enough attention to stir a reaction.

 _Just lay back, babe,_ Hunk would say. _Enjoy the show._ He would straddle Keith as he slowly unbuttons his chef’s coat, fingers expertly moving while his gaze stayed trained on Keith. _You can touch yourself. I’m not gonna forbid it or anything._ He’d laugh.

And Keith can hear that laugh so distinctly, like a song you know the words to regardless of how long it’s been since you last listened to it. He sighs again as his hand moves languidly pushing against his groin in soft circles, varying the pressure as he hardens beneath the fabric. His mouth drops open, moaning softly against the ribbon he still holds close to his nose. “I want _you_ to touch me,” he doesn’t really know why he’s talking out loud; the words just pass his lips as easily as a breath.

_I can’t do that, Keith. I want to— you have no idea how badly I want to. But you’ll have to do it this time. Sorry, man._

Keith whimpers and he shifts a little. He bends his legs, planting his socked feet against his futon as he presses harder against his cock through his now-too-tight pants. In his mind, Hunk’s hands are everywhere. His chest, his thighs, his hips. Then his hips lift a bit, toes curling, and he grips himself through the fabric and awkwardly strokes over the growing wet spot. He breathes in Hunk’s scent again, chills running through him.

_You’re gonna want to unbutton soon. Those are your favorite pants, remember?_

“I know,” Keith whispers as he parts from the scent for a short moment, hands moving to unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down quickly. He hoists his hips a bit higher, finally lifting off the futon as he shimmies the fabric down. He hooks his thumbs underneath both layers and tugs his boxer briefs down too. His cock bounces out, cum already beading at the tip, and Keith resumes his previous position.

_You’re gorgeous. Look at how hard you are already. Does my shampoo really turn you on that much?_

As Hunk’s giggle snort echoes in Keith’s mind, his teeth grab hold of one of the ends of the ribbon. He wraps his other hand around his cock, slicking his palm as much as he can before beginning a slowly stroke. He hunches his shoulders, chills of pleasure already tensing his muscles as he quickly increases his pace. His breath quickens too, coming out in soft pants as he starts to thrust his hips, slowly, and out of time with his fast strokes.

_That’s it. Just like that. I know you like it quick._

Keith hums and lets it morph into a drawn out moan. He shifts his hips up off the futon again as another shiver of pleasure jolts through him. The ribbon between his lips is darkened, soaked with saliva, and he makes sure to let it drop. The cold wet fabric falls and sticks to the side of his fist as he brings it close to his nose again, breathing in the honey and teakwood; breathing in Hunk. His hand around his cock squeezes a bit tightly, curling around his shaft as he pumps quickly. His breath is slow, but exhales loud and hard.

_Can you last a bit longer? Can you do that for me, babe? I want to see you unravel._

Keith doesn’t speak aloud this time. He answers his imagination though, nodding a bit hastily as he arches up from the futon. The entwined hand suddenly darts away from his face, slapping against his futon to his side to brace himself. His climax hits him suddenly and his mouth drops open, air catching in his throat as his muscles tense in sporadic waves. He feels the warm liquid hit his upper stomach and after just a few more spasms more he comes down. His hips fall to the futon and he lets out a deep sigh as he catches his breath.

He looks down at himself and clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Dammit,” he mumbles as he stares down at the cum stains on his shirt. His head falls back down against the pillow and lets go of himself after a few more slow, oversensitive strokes. He turns his head and looks at the ribbon tied around his hand. A smile tugs at his lips as he lets out a small huff of a laugh. He grunts a little as he sits up and leans over to grab something to clean himself off.

 

\-- -- -- --

 

“It was on my dresser,” Hunk says to himself. He stands in the center of his room, hands on his hips. He was almost ready to head out the door to get to work. It’s early and he needs to get a lot of food prep done for today. He has his newly pressed black dress pants and his chef's whites, sleeves already rolled up to the elbows. He’s all ready to go. The only problem is he can’t find his headband. He lifts his finger and points to his dresser as he repeats. “It was on my dresser.”

He shakes his head, forgetting it for now. He needs to get going anyway or else he’d be too late.

Work is busy; if that’s even the right word for it. He isn’t necessarily doing a lot of the work himself, but delegating the work is almost as tough as doing it. He runs around the kitchen and oversees his apprentices, offering suggestions and occasionally barking orders when the tension is high. He always apologizes afterward for those. Thankfully, they’re able to successfully finish the day’s tasks and after cleanup is done, everyone is waving goodbyes and chatting about dinner plans.

Hunk waves over his shoulder at his buddies after politely declining an invitation to a bar. He’s ready to just go home, shower, and bellyflop into his bed.

Which is exactly what he plans on doing. He throws his keys into the small ceramic bowl Lance had made him some odd months ago and kicks off his shoes. He undresses as he walks through his small apartment, dropping articles of clothing on his way to the bathroom. Needless to say, the hot water is a welcomed replacement of a certain warmth of another.

Hunk towel dries his hair and slips into a pair of boxers while he turns on a podcast he likes. One that always ticks Pidge off for their emphasis “all the wrong wavelength signatures.” Or something like that. Hunk doesn’t remember. He just likes their conversations. They’re funny people.

He decides to skip making dinner tonight and instead drops face-first onto his bed. It’s a lot bigger than his first mattress; big enough for two. He bought it specifically for that purpose.

Hunk sighs into his pillow and slowly lifts his face off the warmed fabric. It’s only the third day since Keith left and he doesn’t know how long Keith will actually be gone this time. He shouldn’t be feeling so lonely _already._ Yet, here he is. Moping. He knows if he told Keith about skipping out on dinner with friends he’d be cross.

_Hunk, you knew this was what it was going to be like. I was very honest with you from the beginning. I can’t sacrifice the Blade’s potential, and that means I have to be gone for these missions. You shouldn’t isolate yourself from your friends. They’ll only worry._

Hunk narrows his eyes and drops his face into the pillow once again. He makes a throaty noise, groaning a complaint at his brain’s perfect impersonation of Keith’s lecture. He, of course, support’s Keith decision—he knows how important those missions are. And with the universe being left in the state it’s in, the Blade of Marmora’s resources and connections make it the perfect organization to carry out their efforts. It’s all important. It’s all necessary. It’s for the greater good.

However Hunk is selfish, if only for tonight, and says to hell with the great good. He sighs again and turns over slowly, letting his arms stretch out to his sides. “Keith,” he breathes his love’s name, missing him so much it makes his heart ache. It’s going to be a long, long night.

But it doesn’t have to feel that way.

Hunk suddenly turns onto his side again, arm reaching down to the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He opens it and without even looking, he pulls out the soft leather jacket. He flips back onto his back and holds the jacket up, thumbs kneading into the fabric, feeling the stitches and the worn patches where Keith’s elbows would bend. Hunk purses his lips a little, embarrassed guilt getting the better of him and his face warms a bit. He really should’ve told Keith, but that aforementioned selfishness? Yeah, you get it.

The jacket is nicely made considering it barely shows much wear and tear despite Keith wearing it practically every day. Shiro had bought it for him as a birthday present and everyone was delighted when they discovered it fit Keith perfectly. And everyone was more than glad to finally get rid of that guady red one. It was nice and suited a purpose, but that thing had been barely threads by the time Shiro bought this new one. Hunk smiles at the memory—he’d never seen Keith so happy about clothes before. It was the same year Hunk had finally gotten the guts to ask Keith out on a date.

Hunk holds the jacket up a little higher, hands shifting so either sleeve is pulled taught enough to view the whole thing. He lowers it then and wraps his arms around it like a hug. It isn’t the same, of _course_ it isn’t, but the warm sensation Hunk’s heart feels is comforting enough. He shifts a little, lifting the jacket up to his lips as he presses a kiss to the inside of the collar, to the hand-stitched tag. He breathes in, wanting to let out a deep sigh but stops, holding it in like it’s the last breath he’ll ever take.

“Cherry,” Hunk snorts through a laugh as he lets out the breath. It’s such an odd scent association, but it’s so very Keith. His hair is long enough now to reach his shoulder blades, so it’s not surprise the smell has transferred some to the collar of the jacket. Despite his amusement, he holds the jacket close once again and takes in a deeper, more significant breath.

His heart clenches, aching and longing for the jacket to be filled out with the one he misses the most.

For now, he flips over to his stomach again. His eyes flutter shut as he adjusts himself to get comfortable. He untucks a hand from beneath him and grabs one of his large pillows and slides it under his hips. He figures once in the shower isn’t enough for tonight and he takes in another deep breath, filling his lungs with that sweet, almost bitter scent. His hips rut against the pillow, slowly and lazily as he lets himself fall into a nice reverie.

He can see Keith sitting across from him, ankle crossed over his knee and a hand resting against his chin. He can see that soft smile on Keith’s lips. He can see how Keith’s thumb idly traces the raised skin of his scar on his cheek, an absentminded habit picked up who-knows how long ago. Hunk wants to kiss that scar and all the others. He wants to kiss Keith all over. He wants Keith to kiss him all over.

His hips grind harder against the plush, not offering enough resistance for his liking but it’s enough pressure for the time being. Hunk’s breath warms the jacket as he pushes his face against it, panting and letting a small moan escape out, up from deep in his chest.

_You’re so good, Hunk._

Hunk hesitates, biting his lower lip for a second before opening his eyes and reaching back down into that same low drawer. He uncaps the small bottle and pulls down his boxers before squirting the contents onto his hand. He slicks his fingers graciously, warming it against his skin before adjusting his position once again. He lifts his hips, balancing his bottom half up onto his knees, and the weight shift presses his face harder against the soft fabric of the jacket. Hunk breathes in slow, desperate sighs as he presses a single digit into himself.

“A-ah,” he shivers, feels himself resist against the pressure and he forces himself to relax. He thinks of Keith kneeling behind him, elegant but calloused hand resting gently on his lower back; finger tips tracing loving lines along the marks of stretched skin and leaving kisses here and there.

Hunk works himself open slowly, drawing small moans from himself while wishing it weren’t his own fingers inside of him. He curls the two; up against that sweet spot that has his dick leaking and twitching with aching want. He presses against it again and again, milking every sensation as his fingers slip in and out of himself with loosened ease.

“ _Keith_ ,” he whimpers the name like a wish as he finally allows his other hand to abandon its clutches on the jacket and move to his cock. He wraps around himself and cums after only a few pumps. His body tenses, shocks of his orgasm rushing through him as he gasps. He falls limp then, panting and letting himself slip into a sleepy stupor.

 

\-- -- -- --

 

37 days. That’s how long it’s been and Keith is bouncing his leg impatiently as the galran pilot gets the permission to dock their ship in the 4A slot of the hangar. Keith had sent a message to Hunk as soon as they were within range and now that he knows he’s just minutes away, the tension is almost too much to bear.

He paces now with his hands behind his back, and the entire crew save for the new, inexperienced pilot, exchanges knowing looks and grins. If Keith notices them, he doesn’t make it known. Instead he presses a series of commands on the screens as soon as the pilot lands the ship in the hangar.

“Should we do a quick debrief—and he’s gone,” the young galran pilot says as Keith quite literally vaults over one of the control panels, leaving the bridge and heading toward the back of the ship where the automatic ramp is already extending loudly. "Don't we have disembarking protocol to do?" he complains.

Kolivon suddenly is behind the pilot and puts a hand on the pilot’s shoulder. He gestures out the front glass panes, swiping away the holographic screen so it becomes a clear window. “I’ll start taking inventory.” He pats the pilot a few times before leaving.

The pilot quirks an eyebrow at his superior’s actions, but lets his attention turn back to the window. He sees Hunk Garrett, the former pilot of the yellow lion running toward their ship—the wind from the turbines blowing against him like a summer storm. Soon enough, he sees Keith appear from beneath the ship, sprinting toward Hunk with just as much intensity.

The pilot tilts his head, letting out a small _hm_ as he watches and leans forward for a better view.

Just as they are about to collide, Keith suddenly jumps into Hunk’s arms, legs wrapping around his waist and grabs Hunk’s head roughly before pressing their lips together in hungry passion.

The pilot’s face instantly explodes with heat, a surprised blush. He stands quickly, almost tripping over his own feet, and he hurriedly goes to find the rest of the crew to continue the disembarkment procedures.

Back in the hangar, Keith feels Hunk’s smile against his lips and he can’t help but smile too. He basks in the feeling of Hunk’s hands against his lower back, holding him up as if he were weightless. Keith peppers a few more kisses before pulling away.

“I missed you,” Hunk is first to speak. His smile is soft and his caramel eyes are so bright, staring into Keith’s gaze in a way Keith knows is meant for him and him alone. “So much. So so dang much. I'd have to create a new number to describe just how much.”

Keith laughs, thumbs gently caressing Hunk’s cheekbones for a moment before Hunk slowly lets him slide back down to stand on his own. “I missed you too,” Keith says as he caresses Hunk’s cheeks again before his eyes suddenly go wide and he gasps.

Hunk lets out a confused hum as he watches Keith pull his hands away like he’d just been electrocuted. As quick as Keith is however, Hunk is able to see it before Keith tries hiding it behind his back. There’s no doubt about it. The orange ribbon is tied intricately around Keith’s wrist, like a token of a warrior’s lover given as a promise of return. He stares at Keith for a moment, watching him turn more and more pink under his scrutinizing gaze.

“So _that’s_ where that went,” Hunk says after a moment. Keith keeps his hands behind his back like a kindergartner hiding something they shouldn’t have.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith says through a pout.

“Pfft, you’re such a bad liar.” Hunk steps closer and he moves his hands gently around Keith, and Keith lets him. He feels around for a moment before pulling the wrapped hand from behind his back and lifts it up so they can both see it clearly.

Keith keeps his gaze elsewhere, pink blooming and blotching his pale cheeks. “I wanted…something to remember you by while I was gone.” His ears feel hot now too and he knows he shouldn't be so embarrassed but it's just...it's involuntary, how red he turns.

It’s only when he feels Hunk’s warm lips against his wrist that Keith finally looks back at him.

Hunk is smiling, kissing the ribbon gently with eyes closed. “It suits you,” he says when he opens them once again.

Keith lets out a short laugh, embarrassed still but at least he’s learned to laugh at himself. Hunk had taught him that. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, sighing and feeling entirely too happy for someone who just space traveled for four days straight.

“Hungry?” Hunk finally breaks the comfortable silence as they turn hand in hand and walk down the landing strip.

“Starving,” Keith says giving Hunk’s hand a small, loving squeeze.

 

 

\-- --- --- ---

 

 

Later that night Keith is in Hunk's lap, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as Hunk lifts his hips, thrusting into Keith again and again. Their bodies are hot, pressed against each other in a long awaited embrace. Hunk feels Keith’s warm breath against his cheek as he turns his head and nuzzles him with occasional kisses to his temple. They don’t say much; let their love making do the speaking for them. How much they miss each other, how badly they want to feel the other, how much they long for the other when they’re apart. Hunk kisses down Keith’s neck. “Your jacket smells just like you,” he says through a gasped moan, lips stopping against Keith’s collar bone. “It’s nice.”

“H-huh?” Keith stutters through a shiver as Hunk’s cock presses deeper into him, rubbing against his inner walls in the way that drives Keith wild. He does his best to stay focused though. “You—wait, you have my jacket?” He feels Hunk laugh more than hears him. He furrows his brow a bit, pushing against Hunk’s shoulder gently but enough to peel away from each other’s sweaty skin and look him in the eyes. “You _stole_ my jacket?!” Keith says with more gusto.

“No,” Hunk corrects with a grin. “You left it at my place and I simply decided not to tell you before you left.” Keith’s expression relaxes at that, giving Hunk his best _are you joking_ face. Hunk continues regardless, “You on the other hand are a headband thief.”

Keith rolls his eyes but smiles as he lifts his hand, a finger presses against Hunk’s round nose. “I don’t think you’ll complain once you know what I did with it.”

“What d—” Hunk’s interest is piqued but he isn’t allowed to finish as Keith suddenly kisses him, tongue diving into his mouth to meet his own, tasting and exploring. Keith presses his palm to Hunk’s wide chest and pushes him down, forcing their kiss apart. Hunk smiles as he's pushed, head falling to the pillow with enough effort that he bounces a little on the mattress.

**Author's Note:**

> I only re-read this twice, so there's bound to be mistakes. oooopsies!!  
> BUT REGARDLESS I hope you enjoyed it! These two lovely boys are so madly in love it warms my soul.


End file.
